Browsing Archives of Author »Zac Blevins«

An Encounter with _____

February 6, 2014

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Last September, my friend Dan and I had tickets to see English alt-rockers, Anathema.  When these things don’t start on time, I’m prone to antsy pre-concert stops to the venue bar, where the economic drink is a $7.50 bottle of Bud Light, which, granted, is opened for me by the leather braceleted bartender so that […]

Unwitting Satanist

January 16, 2014

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Why am I wearing this cape? I like to think the whole thing started when I was six. My dad was addressing the family at the dinner table about how the early-90s were careening into a period of moral and cultural ambiguity, and the conversation was becoming rather circular. A lot of, ‘kids these days,’ […]

Eat the Scroll podcast – Episode 1 – Left Behind

November 16, 2013

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  Eat the Scroll* is a podcast ostensibly treating topics in apocalypse, hosted by Zac Blevins and Kelly Coyle. Episode one discusses Left Behind, written by Jerry Jenkins and Tim LaHaye.  The book and movie series has infiltrated contemporary Christian culture and blurred the line between scripture and popular fiction. Guests: Ryan Love and Skyler Peepee […]

Capital Romanticism

September 13, 2013

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At the end of high school I did two years as a Starbucks barista.  I was trained-in by a gal named Mori who rode a red Kawasaki Ninja, had a blonde pixie cut, and a tattoo of a dagger impaling a plump red heart on her forearm. She was ninety pounds of don’t-fuck-with-me. My first […]

Cities in Rock 5: Katmandu

August 19, 2013

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When I lived in Chicago I used to play pool at a dive everyone called Rose’s. The sign above the door depicted a third-graders rendering of a rose. A pictogram. That was it. The place wasn’t listed on Yelp or Urbanspoon, though now there is a scant Google Plus listing.  The owner, Rose, a short seventy-something, […]

Cities in Rock 3: Rockford

July 19, 2013

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I spent a recent Sunday afternoon denying the rowdy street festival happening three floors down, until I heard this drummer warming up on the street corner, emulating staccato jazz runs with accented snare hits and choked cymbals. Whoever was on the kit had his shit together. I took my coffee and went to check this […]